


turn and burn

by weatheredlaw



Series: from each brave eye [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Love Triangles, Mental Health Issues, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-12 17:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4487703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weatheredlaw/pseuds/weatheredlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn Trevelyan's brother Maxwell disappeared nearly a year ago, under mysterious circumstances. When he returned, he wouldn't speak of where he'd been. Evelyn hires Varric Tethras: storyteller, personal hero, and fellow abandoned sibling to get to the bottom of it. The last thing she needs is a damn love triangle, but the saying is so often true: when it rains...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a better summary than it was before, and this should be a good story, I think.

_I should go now quietly/For my bones have found a place to lie down and sleep_ \-- Daughter, "Smother"

* * *

Dorian asked her not to go alone.

"Please, an apartment on the edge of Lowtown? You're asking for a mugging, my dear. Practically _begging_ for it." 

"Dorian. You're giving me a headache." Evelyn kissed his temple and grabbed her things -- the car was waiting downstairs, and if Bull's knowledge of Varric's itinerary was correct, he'd be arriving from Val Royeaux in the next twenty minutes. Just enough time to get there and find him at home. "You're sure about the times then, Bull?"

The Qunari laughed. "Am I sure about the schedule of a man returning home from visiting his lover in Orlais? Hardly. But it's the best I can do."

"It's what we have then," she said. "Please don't let him fret," she added quickly, resting her hand on Bull's shoulder.

"I'll do my best, boss."

Nodding, Evelyn stepped out of the office and onto the elevator. She looked at her watch and smiled. _Right on schedule._

 

 

 

Of course, when she arrived at the home of Varric Tethras, he was nowhere to be found. Evelyn knocked on the door a handful of times before realizing that Bull's last words to her had been right, and a man traveling between homes could not be trusted to be on time. Carefully, she sat down on the front stoop, straightening her dress and sending a message to Josephine. Her assistant liked to be made aware of when things changed, even those she did not directly participate in. She was rightly flustered that Varric had strayed from the assumed schedule, and noted a few dozen things that needed to be signed the next day. Evelyn sighed and looked up and down the street. 

"Would you like to wait in the car, ma'am?" Her driver this evening was one of Bull's old Charger boys, a young man named Krem. He had a kind face, but Evelyn knew that it was for show. 

She smiled. "No, Krem. But thank you."

"Tethras is alright. He'll be here eventually."

"Unfortunately I don't have time for eventually, but--" She stopped as a cab pulled up in front of the building, and Varric Tethras got out, shouldering his phone to take his bag from the driver. He paid him and stood on the curb, rocking back on his heels and speaking low and happily. 

"--got here safe, don't worry." He hefted up his bag and laughed. "I do, already. Seeker, you know--" He froze, eyeing the two of them cautiously. Evelyn stood and he took her in, face clouded with confusion before recognition broke through the fog. "Seeker, I'll have to call you back. There's a young lady with a lot of money sitting on my doorstep...No, I wouldn't leave you, not after finding out about that _thing_ you do with your hands...Of course she heard...I'll call you, princess, on my honor." He hung up and slid the phone in his back pocket, folding his arms over his chest. "Miss Trevelyan. It's an honor."

"It'd be more of one if you'd invite me inside. Krem, would you wait on us?"

"Of course, ma'am." 

Evelyn stepped aside and let Varric pass. He tugged out his keys and opened the door, flicking on the hall light and setting his bag down with a groan. "S'been a long week."

"Sounded like it."

"Mmhm. Can I get you a drink, Miss--"

"Please." She walked a little further into the apartment. "Call me Evelyn."

"Ah. So we're having a serious conversation then, are we? Did Bull track me down?"

"He did." She walked along the wall, looking at the photos in their silver and wooden frames, the craftsmanship of the furniture around her clearly dwarven. He had money, she knew that, but the space was relatively modest and mundane. A dwarf lived here, alone, with accommodations for only himself. Evelyn peered through the living room and saw several bookshelves lining the wall, leading to a plush looking study with a large bay window. It was, considering its location, elegant and tasteful. Varric cleared his throat. "Sorry," she said, taking a glass of wine from him. "I was just...it's a beautiful home."

"It does what it needs to do." He led her to the living room, turning on another light and gesturing toward the sofa. "Sit, please." Evelyn did as she was told and settled her glass in her lap, glancing around. Now that she was here...now that it was _happening_ \-- Maker, she didn't know _what_ to say to him. The prepared speech would be best, she supposed, but with a man like Varric Tethras, could she be sure he wouldn't see through her? Would he _know_? 

"Evelyn?"

"Hmm? Oh, _Maker_ , forgive me. I just...well there's a lot to say, I think. Or maybe not much at all, I can't be sure anymore." Varric didn't interrupt her, only leaning forward as if permitting her to continue. "Maybe you know the history of my family."

"Some. I know of the company. You're doing well this quarter."

"This...isn't a visit about money." She cleared her throat. "You did well, last winter. Solving those murders." 

Varric's face clouded. "I didn't do much solving."

"You kept the Knight-Commander out of prison. A lot of people respect you for that."

"A lot," he said. "Not all."

"I do. I thought your testimony was brilliant. Moving, even. You were completely right to think and do what you did. Of course she did a horrible thing, but she was _sick_ , she needed help, and you _saw_ that. You could see how much she needed someone to take care of her." Evelyn felt her grip tighten around her glass and took a breath. This was what Dorian had been afraid of. "I must admit to you, my family's fortune is not what's at stake. It is our reputation."

"How so?"

"You know my parents died nine years ago. I was only sixteen, and my eldest sister Victoria inherited the company. But she had complications during her second pregnancy and two years ago, I took over." Varric nodded. She assumed he knew the story, most people did. But it helped to be able to tell it either way. "My younger brother, Maxwell, is the only boy in our family. If he'd been older, he'd have been in charge, but he turned nineteen last spring, he's hardly in any position to run a company. And, frankly, he doesn't want to." She paused. "Maxwell is a mage. The only one in our family. A year ago, he disappeared for almost seven months, and when he came back he was...different. Changed. I couldn't put my finger on it, I had no clue what he got up to in that time. But people have been asking questions. They want to _know._ "

"They want your secrets."

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Evelyn." His voice was soft, and incredibly kind. "What is it you'd like me to help you with?"

She took a deep breath. "I'd like you to speak with my brother. Try to understand what happened to him. You...you have lost a brother of your own to madness. I thought that you...might understand him. Maybe he would speak to you. My father...the two were so close. When my parents died, Max wasn't the same. He was angry, he didn't laugh anymore. Didn't smile. He still doesn't." Evelyn felt her voice tremble and suddenly Varric was next to her, an arm around her shoulder. "I want him to be... _happy_ again. I was never close with my sisters, but Max and I...we had something." She looked at him. "And I would very much like it back."

Varric nodded. "Where does your brother live?"

"We inherited an estate last autumn. My grandmother on my mother's side passed away. We didn't know her very well, but the house was warm and welcoming, so when he came back to us, I had him moved there. He has his own floor, but he spends most of his time in the library. He _reads_ , all day long." She laughed, now. "You know your books helped us. He and I, we would read them together once he was old enough. We ate at all those places you loved so much, we spent all our allowance on pastries."

"Can't imagine a better way to blow your parents' money."

"Neither could we." Evelyn wiped a tear from her cheek. "If you'll help me, I'll pay for your travel to and from Orlais." Varric opened his mouth, but Evelyn stopped him. "No, it's the least I can do. And, I suppose, if the story is good enough, you may write about it."

"I won't write your secrets down."

"If it isn't damning then you might as well. Maker knows someone else is dying to." She stood. "I apologize for not finishing the wine. I'm more of an ale girl, myself."

"You're fine."

"I appreciate the help, Master--"

"Varric," he said. "Let's just...settle on Varric."

"Right. Could you come to the house as soon as Monday?"

"I could."

"And you'll give me regular reports."

"Every day I can."

Evelyn nodded. "Alright. I should get back to Krem. He's too patient for his own good."

"Be safe, Evelyn."

"And you, Varric." He walked with her to the door and she bent down to place a careful kiss at his temple. "You really are as kind as they say."

"People say I'm _kind?_ I must be doing the wrong thing." 

As the door closed behind her, Evelyn felt two things all at once. She was relieved, of course. To have someone come and try to understand her brother was a gift, and she would have to be grateful for it later. 

She also felt something like _need_ welling up in her, and as Krem shut the door on her side of the car, she took out her phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hey," she said quietly. "It's me."

 

 

 

Evelyn had Krem drive her back to her apartment. She was exhausted, emotionally drained, and she really did need a drink she could stomach. Inside, she bent down to shuck her heels, and went into the kitchen to make herself a drink. Ice, vodka, and a splash of grapefruit juice went into one of the glasses her sister Alice had given her, and she drained it all in one go.

"Was it really so bad?" A smooth hand fell at her waist, lips suddenly at her ears. Evelyn tensed, closing her eyes and leaning into the touch.

"You're too quiet for your own good, do you know that?"

Solas smiled, turning her around to face him. He reached up and pulled the pin from the knot on the back of her head, and her braid fell down her back. "You called me. It was...strange, to hear your voice after so long."

"It's hardly been a month."

"That's a great deal of time for us," he murmured, fingers ghosting under her chin. Evelyn moaned at the contact, and he kissed her, swallowing up the noise. She set her glass on the counter clumsily, snaking her arms around around his neck. He dug his fingers into her hips, pressing her against the counter and pushing her skirt up over her thighs. "Did your conversation with Master Tethras go well?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of her underwear, and he yanked them down past her knees. " _Solas--_ " 

He reached down and unbuttoned his slacks, freeing his cock and stroking it carefully. "So he'll help your brother?"

"He will."

"For how much?"

"For--" She gasped as he guided himself inside her, pushing in slowly and patiently, until his entire length was buried in her cunt. "For the cost of travel, to and from Orlais."

"A lover there?"

" _Yes--_ " She wasn't sure if she was truly answering his question or not as he began to thrust in earnest, leaving her useless against him. She opened her mouth, teeth digging into his shoulder as he fucked her, slow at first and then faster. He pulled out quickly and, turning her around, hiked her skirt over her ass and pushed back in. Evelyn grabbed the handle of the cabinet above her and moaned, his name long and pleading on her tongue. " _Please,_ I want--"

"I know what you want."

" _Maker--_ "

"Ask your blessed Maker for whatever you'd like, but you know I'm the only one who can do this."

"I do, oh, I _do--_ " Solas struck a place inside of her and Evelyn broke, a wail escaping her mouth as she fought to maintain some kind of control. Sometime between one orgasm and the next, he came, holding himself inside of her. She felt his come drip down her thighs as he reached down and drug his finger along her skin, bringing it to her mouth. She wrapped her lips around his fingers and sighed. 

"You look tired," he said.

"Having your brains fucked out after a full day of work will do that to a woman."

"Come," he said quietly, and before she could get snarky, he murmured, "I'll give you a bath."

"You're terrible."

"And you deserve it. You've worked hard for your brother, for yourself. Let me take care of you."

Evelyn sighed, abandoning her clothes in a steady line as he led her to the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record I published this and it's 3:30 in the morning and I'm suddenly awake and I was reading it over and found a stupid little HTML error and I'm so mad at myself and now I can't go back to bed. Enjoy this.

_To bring yourself from harm/To be the braver one/To raise a weary hand/In a house that's built on sand_ \-- Vaults, "Cry No More"

* * *

Solas surprised her in the morning. So often he vanished from the apartment before she could wake, only to pretend he hadn't the next time he saw her. They were hardly lovers -- friends, still, more than anything. But the element was there, the _need_ , so raw in the way it struck her, heavy the way it wounded her. Evelyn opened her eyes and heard the shower running, caught off guard. Carefully, she shifted out of bed and padded into the bathroom, standing in the steam with her arms wrapped over her bare chest, waiting for him to finish. He pushed back the curtain, eyes meeting her own instantly. He smiled.

"You slept in," she said quietly.

He chuckled. "It's six in the morning. Though I suppose for you it is rather late." Evelyn handed him a towel. "Would you like me to turn it back on for you?"

"No."

"Would you like me to leave?" he asked, quieter now. Evelyn's mouth worked around the words, but Solas didn't let her answer, instead pulling her against his chest. She reached up, traced the tips of his ears, laughing when he flinched.

"Are all elves this ticklish?"

"It isn't funny."

"My serious elven mage friend, so enamored with the fade, so savy, so _clever--_ " He kissed her. 

"Ticklish," he said, when he pulled back. "I know."

 

 

 

She did shower, but with him behind her, his cock pressed deep inside, her hands and fingers scrambling along the slick tiles for purchase. Evelyn stood in the kitchen, naked under her robe, aware he was watching her fix them breakfast. She could feel his gaze on her hands, their grip on the knife sturdy, even if her grip on everything else was not. 

"When will Varric see your brother?"

"Monday."

"Are you going to tell Maxwell what's happening?"

"Would there be a point?"

"Perhaps a warning is in order--"

"Then go tell him yourself," she said quickly. "I didn't ask you to come here so I could get _useless_ advice. If you wanted to take care of my brother, you should have agreed to when I asked you. But you won't, you wouldn't, and now here I am, _begging_ some man I worshiped as a girl to make some _semblance_ of a connection with _my_ brother. _My own_ brother, you fool elf." She threw the knife onto the counter. The anger came too quickly for her to manage, and Solas was so calm behind her. She wanted to lash out, she'd been waiting to. 

"Of course," he said. "You're right, as you usually are."

"Stop that. Stop _patronizing_ me. I am not a child."

"No, you certainly aren't." Evelyn heard the chair scrape behind her and Solas's hands -- fingers, so long, so clever and satisfying, _Maker_ \-- curled around her shoulders. "I'll leave you. I've upset you and I'm sorry." 

She could have said something, Maker she could have said a thousand things -- but she let him leave, turned and watched him take his things and _go_. Like she wanted, supposedly. 

The food went into the trash, and Evelyn went back to sleep.

 

 

 

On Monday morning, Evelyn met Varric at the estate. She'd moved her brother here after acquiring it, preferring it to the prospect of keeping him at one of her father's old properties or, Maker forbid, her own home. She adored him, loved him to no end -- but he was a trial, he was sometimes violent, and she needed to be able to keep him safe without suspicion. 

Varric did not ease her anxiety. "You don't want people to know, so you keep your creepy, silent little brother in an old house?"

"Shut up."

"I'm just _saying--_ "

"It's beautiful inside, and he loves the library. I hadn't intended on keeping him here, you know. But I brought him to visit and then he wouldn't budge. The staff keeps him in check, and there's a doctor that comes around every week. I'm here every day, I practically live here."

"But you _don't_ live here?" Varric said quietly.

"For the same reason you don't live next door to the sanitorium. Martha, could you please bring tea to the library? Master Tethras will be there shortly." Evelyn gestured for Varric to follow her up the stairs. The entire home had been absolutely _filthy_ when she'd first seen it, and it'd taken six weeks of deep cleaning after deep cleaning to get it past a livable state and return it to its former glory. Her grandmother hadn't lived in it for years, and Evelyn hadn't seen her since she was a little girl, Max hardly a babe. 

"It's a nice place."

"We had a historian come in and value the artwork. There's incredible pieces throughout the house, even the vases are ancient. We may sell some of it, donate it to an auction or a charity, I'm not sure." Stepping in front of the library doors, she held up a hand. The servant with the tea was right behind them, but Evelyn made her wait. "Max? Maxwell, it's me." She knocked lightly. "I'm coming in. I've brought a friend." She pushed the door open and stepped into the room. 

They'd cleaned it before he'd practically moved into it, and she knew for a fact that his bedroom had hardly been touched. A cold pot of tea from earlier in the day sat abandoned in the corner. Other than that, the only sign another living thing was in the room at all was her brother himself, seated at one of the overstuffed chairs in front of the window, a book in his lap. Evelyn turned to say something to Varric, but he had already moved deeper into the room, advancing on the window carefully as he picked up a book from the pile and sat across from Max.

Her brother didn't acknowledge Varric, and for a while, she simply watched them read. She sent Martha away and made two cups of tea, setting the tray at the table between them. Varric reached for his own wordlessly, while Max turned the pages of his book. 

"Is that a Marcelle?" Varric asked, setting his book aside.

"Yes." Max's voice was quiet, and it shook a little noise from Evelyn's throat -- she hadn't heard him in so long. She hadn't heard him in _months._

"He's an incredible writer."

"He is."

"I've always enjoyed his Orlaisian history series."

"Bit biased, for my taste."

"Well, I know the feeling."

Max looked up. "You're Varric Tethras."

"I am."

"My sister and I read your books all the time. Mother and father don't like it, but they're not home enough to see." Max leaned forward. "I think someone's brought tea. Did you want some?"

"I'd love a cup." Varric looked at Evelyn and gave her a smile. She couldn't help the tears that fell, and she desperately wanted to embrace her brother, ask him where he'd been -- 

But he didn't see her. He moved and spoke as if Varric had crept up from the shadows, and Evelyn wasn't there at all. 

 

 

 

If there was ever a person who brought Evelyn relief in these trying times, it was Josephine. She moved into a room and took the sunshine in with her, even if all she had was bad news. 

"Unfortunately the applicants for your head of security have all been a waste of time. I looked over their resumes and I was not impressed."

"She means to say that they're all idiots," Dorian said, and Bull shoved him. "Well she's _right_."

"We cannot pretend this isn't important. Your security is a top priority, _even_ if you insist otherwise." Evelyn finally looked at her, acknowledging those last words with a smile. "I know you are capable taking care of yourself, but I must insist that we see this through."

Evelyn nodded. "I understand. Have you called--"

"I do not think that is wise."

"Then I'll call him. I'm not joking, Josie. He's perfect for the job, and I won't half-ass this, if it's as important to you as you say it is."

"Someone _like_ him--"

" _Vishante kaffas_ , would you _stop_ using pronouns and tell us his damn _name?_ "

Bull laughed. "She's talking about Rutherford, sweetheart."

"Don't you _sweetheart_ me, you great oaf--"

"Cullen is unavailable," Josephine said quickly. "He _left_ the order, but he won't leave his home. What happened with the Knight-Commander was very troubling for him."

Evelyn shrugged. "I still think we should. And I think you should call him. You're an angel, Josie. You can talk anyone into anything." She stood. "I want him as my head of security, and I want it done this week. Is that clear?"

Josephine sighed. "It is." She scribbled something down and muttered to herself completely silently before clearing her throat. "There is also the small matter of the, ah, _project_ that you've been working on."

"Yes," Dorian said. "We're _lawyers_ , my dear. You do remember that, don't you? We're not historians or writers or any of those graceless twits you admire so much."

"Charming, Dorian."

"Ignore him," Josephine said brightly. "Everything is going smoothly. The art historian will be coming by to look at the samples we've brought in on Wednesday, and the charity auction would be happy to have some of the dishware samples we showed them last week." She made a little note and smiled. "Apart from your bizarre insistence on Cullen Rutherford, everything is going smoothly."

"Should I call him myself, Josephine?"

She sighed. "That won't be necessary. If you need me, I'll be in my office, trying to procure an interview."

"Send him one of the _fancy_ cars," Dorian shouted after her, pleased when the doors shut behind her. "That should be fun."

"Boss." Bull leaned forward on the table. "Are you sure about Cullen? I saw him, after they locked him up. He was a mess _then_."

"I need him."

Dorian _squawked._ "Oh _now_ we're getting to the good stuff."

"Pavus." Evelyn stood and went to the window, folding her arms over her chest. "Look, I know what happened to him. I can't...understand it. I can't fathom it, really. But I just...I know this is the right thing to do."

"It isn't your job to save him, boss."

"No. But I only want the best, and Cullen Rutherford would be the _best._ " She turned back to them. "So I'm getting him."

"Ah, to be so young and so wealthy. To get everything you want." Dorian laughed. "Oh, _wait_ , I'm talking about myself again, aren't I?"

This time, Bull shoved Dorian right out of his chair.

 

 

 

"Are you comfortable?"

Cullen looked around the office and _laughed._ "Maker, you're serious aren't you?"

"Very." Evelyn pushed a cup of coffee toward him. "I trust Josephine explained everything to you this morning."

"Yes, and the car was very nice as well."

"You can thank Dorian for that, later." Evelyn leaned back. "So. I'm glad to see the rumors of you submerging into _total_ hermitage aren't true."

"Only partially," he admitted. "I'm...working on the public eye part."

"Working for me would help."

"Your people do keep saying that, but I'm...not entirely sure."

"Bull says you're the best."

Cullen laughed again. "I was the best. I'm not very sure what I am anymore. Not a Templar. Not a captain. Not much of anything, really."

Evelyn smiled. "You're the new head of my security, if you'll take the job."

"You're quite the negotiator."

"I want the best, Cullen. And I tend to get the things I want. Call it the perks of being spoiled rotten as a child."

"I wouldn't know the feeling."

"Work for me long enough and you might."

Cullen looked at her, watching, scrutinizing. Evelyn felt like she was being silently interrogated, having her secrets drawn out. She didn't blink -- she'd played this game before. 

Finally, he said, "Alright. I'll do this. But I get to choose everyone I work with personally."

"Done."

"And I will vet every person who walks through that door with an appointment."

"No one gets in without one."

"And if I think you're being reckless and stupid, I'm going to tell you."

"And I will reserve my right to ignore you," Evelyn said, standing with a smile. "Do we have a deal?"

Cullen stood with her, extending his hand. "We do." They shook, and Evelyn called Josephine in with the papers. "Right," he said, lifting his pen to sign them. "To work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a general outline for this story, but the ending keeps evolving in my head so bare with my while I get my general shit together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story: I'm a preschool teacher, and in the afternoons I put another teacher's kids to sleep and my purse is full of notes and parts of stories I've written down on the backs of our break sheets. I found part of this in there today. Not the smut, though. I don't write smut around the kiddos. Even if they're all sleeping. Pardon the typos I am exhausted and I'll edit it again in the morning. Just wanted to get it out there before I could change my mind.

_What if love is passing by/And if my demons never die_ \-- Fjord "Blue"

* * *

"Tell me about your Seeker," Evelyn said one morning. She'd come to get Varric in one of the nicer cars, and he'd been pleasantly surprised, toying with the buttons inside like her brother used to when they were young.

"Cassandra?" He said her name like he savored it, and Evelyn supposed he should -- he hadn't seen her since the night she'd asked him for his help, and it was clear he missed her. "She's...different. From anyone I've ever known." It was trite, but the way he said it made Evelyn ache, just a bit. The adoration was evident in the way his eyes glassed over as he thought of her and the right things to say. "She's demanding in the exact ways I need. You have to be better when you're with her, she doesn't settle for less. She's a bit like you, really."

Evelyn flushed. She demanded the best from her attorneys, from her assistant, from Cullen -- but she hardly demanded the best from her lovers. She wanted to tell Varric not to insult his Seeker by comparing them, that she wasted herself on the men she took to her bed and could not seem to love any of them completely. But Varric was done talking, lost in some memory or another, and Evelyn heard herself saying, "I'll pay for her to travel here, if she can manage a trip."

Varric's face brightened -- suddenly years younger than he had ever looked around her, and his mouth crooked up in a half-grin. "She'd enjoy that."

"I'll arrange things. We'll take you both to dinner. Maker knows you've been a great help to me, Varric."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," he said quietly, but when she opened her mouth to ask when he meant, the car had stopped in front of the estate, and Varric was already outside.

 

 

 

True to his word, Cullen had whipped Evelyn's private security force into shape. He'd hired former Templars and Grey Wardens to her staff, revamped security protocols, and had a background check on every single one of Evelyn's contacts, friends, and frequent guests. In reality, after hiring Cullen, Evelyn didn't see him very often. He worked hard and didn't respond to most of her invitations, largely to Josephine's frustration. So it was a surprise, one afternoon, when he brought his lunch to her office, along with a very familiar looking envelope.

"Is there...any reason at all that Empress _Celene_ might write to you?" Cullen asked carefully. Josephine spit salad across the table. "Are you _alright?_ "

Evelyn gave Josephine a hearty pat on the back and extended her hand. "I'll take that. I _do_ wonder what she could want."

"Are we those sort of people now?" Dorian asked.

Bull nodded. "Seems like it."

"How _quaint._ "

Evelyn shushed him and began to read:

_My Dearest Evelyn,  
You are no doubt incredibly busy, and I would hate to waste a single moment of your precious time, but this is a matter of great import. Perhaps you'll remember your last visit to Orlais, when you so elegantly swiped a bit of my land right from under the noses of my most experienced investors. It was incredible to hear of, and particularly humiliating for them -- you know how delicate the egos of men can be. In six weeks, I will be hosting a meeting with my cousin Gaspard, in an attempt to quell his newfound obsession with the throne, and retain my rightful place upon it. I am cordially inviting you to the Winter Palace to be an integral part of my defense. An agent of mine should accompany this letter. Do not be alarmed. While his past is troubled, he is a trusted ally of the Empire, and I believe you will find him quite companionable. He goes by Blackwall, but I suppose if you get to know him well enough, you may call him whatever you'd like. He will send your answer to me in a month, and I will arrange for your travel, should you agree._

_Yours, Celene_

_PS: Do enjoy the chocolates, and send Lady Montiliyet my regards._

A handful of candies tumbled from the letter, and the artificial scent of roses filled the room. Josephine was _shaking._

"Is that how royalty deals with a coup?" Cullen asked. "They have a _dance?_ The Winter Palace is hardly fit for battle--"

"This is not a _battle_ ," Josephine said. "It's a debate between two competent rulers, though I am partial to Celene myself."

"Ah," Cullen said. "I wonder _why._ " Josephine scowled and he turned to Evelyn. "You _bought_ land that belonged to the Empress? Whatever for?"

"Investment. And my sister bought the land, I only negotiated for her. Victoria was still head of the company then, and she was interested in building some sort of office building or condos. I can't remember what I ended up deciding. Dorian, what _did_ we do with that land?"

"You've been renting it out periodically to a group of medieval roleplayers, my dear."

"Ah, there we go. I _do_ remember Victoria being upset about that particular development." Cullen was silent. "Are you broken, Rutherford?"

"I might be." He sighed and picked up the letter. "Who is this Blackwall fellow?"

"Your nine o'clock appointment tomorrow," Josephine said, showing Cullen the schedule. "Celene said his history was questionable, so we'll need to be cautious."

Cullen huffed. "I know how to do my job."

Josephine ignored him and turned to Evelyn. "If you agree, we'll need to prepare a completely new wardrobe. For all of us, actually. Cullen and his staff will need to be outfitted properly, since they’ll be accompanying you. Dorian and Bull should be there. And I will attend, of course." She clucked her tongue. "We have so much work to do."

"And if I say no?"

"You know that letter wasn't a yes or no invitation, don't you boss?" Bull chuckled. "The Game is such a crock of shit."

"Agreed," Evelyn said. "But you're right. I don't seem to have a lot of options."

"Is she _loaning_ her agent to you? It sounded very suggestive," Dorian wondered aloud. "Well, in any case, I'm sure Cullen will angrily express his honest opinion the first chance he gets."

"Let me know what you find, please," Josephine said. "I have some calls to make. The family tailor should be free to make a trip down for measurements."

"Your _family_ tailor?" Cullen asked, getting up after her. "We can't just go _buy_ something?"

"You're new, so I'll forgive the ignorance." Josephine put a hand on his elbow as the elevator doors closed behind them.

Bull sighed. "Well. I've got a hundred calls to make. Despite our political dalliances, we still have a company to run."

"Did you get the documents on the merger I sent you?" Dorian asked, trailing after him.

"I did, and they had tea stains all over them."

"Could have been blood."

"You're not that edgy, mage. It was tea." 

"Yes, but if it _were_ blood..." They disappeared into their shared office and shut the door behind them, leaving Evelyn alone.

She turned Celene's letter over in her hand, trying to understand. She knew Gaspard had been vying for the throne for several months, and that he had a small band of poorly trained _thugs_ at his disposal. Evelyn silently supported the Empress by investing in the appropriate places and doing as she was expected to in the business world, but it was something else entirely to come out physically and vocalize her opinion. Celene was, if nothing else, a sort of acquaintance, and Evelyn was a shrewd negotiator. If the Empress wanted a battle of wits, she would witness one. Evelyn wondered suddenly if the Divine would be there, and remembered -- she'd made Varric a promise. 

Quickly, she sent a text to Josephine to arrange for Cassandra Pentaghast to travel to Kirkwall, and put her somewhere nice, then pass the information along to Varric Tethras. 

**josephine:** are they????  
**evelyn:** they are.  
**josephine:** how precious.

 

 

 

Evelyn had never met Cassandra Pentaghast in person. She'd seen her picture on the news when the Knight-Commander had gone completely mad. Her only thought had been that she was terrifying and beautiful all at once. When she learned through Bull that the Seeker and Varric were lovers, it seemed an impossibility to her as much as anyone else -- but in front of her, they fit perfectly. Evelyn had only been with them for ten minutes, and she was already endeared.

"You will not enjoy the fish," Cassandra said. "I don't know why you insist on ordering it."

"Fish is a Kirkwall specialty."

"The water here is stagnant, and it does not smell right."

"It's the _principle_ , Seeker. Trevelyan, tell her."

Evelyn laughed. "You're the local, Varric, not me."

Josephine had convinced Cullen to join them, and ever since they'd arrived together with Bull and Dorian, he'd been glancing around the room, under the impression everyone was staring, even though no one had hardly noticed them. Meredith's actions were hardly behind them all, but it had faded from the public mind, and Cullen's brief accusation could have happened years ago.

"You look well, Cullen." Cassandra put a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, and she pulled away slowly.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You're all good, Curly." Varric set his menu down and said to the waiter, "I'll take the catch of the day."

Cassandra made a _noise_ before she ordered, and Varric chuckled. "You will be unhappy," she said.

"Are you happy?"

"I am."

"Then I'm happy." 

The Seeker huffed, and Dorian snorted into his wine glass. 

Cassandra turned to Evelyn. "Varric has told me very little of his arrangement with you. I trust it is legal and safe."

"Seeker, I told you not to do this."

"And I told you that I would ignore you." She looked at Evelyn again. 

"It's safe, Seeker Pentaghast, I promise. Varric's been spending time with my brother Maxwell. He's...not well."

"Is he sick? Does he need a physician you can't find here? Varric is convincing, but as a doctor--"

"He's just...very quiet," Evelyn said. She felt her neck begin to crawl with the strangest feeling, like there was someone listening who shouldn't have been. Her paranoia, Dorian would call it. Intuition, Cullen might say. If Cassandra noticed, she said nothing, and she backed away from the issue quickly.

"Of course," she said. "Varric is quite adept at talking. He very rarely stops."

"Ah, there she goes again. Speaking so highly of me to my new friends. Cheers," Varric said, smiling. Beside him, Josephine leaned over and whispered something to Cullen, who seemed startled into laughter, a grin spreading over his face. The mood at the table warmed considerably, and when they rose from their seats some time later, Evelyn felt silly about being worried for any reason at all. 

Before she could get away from him, Cullen reached out and put a hand on her elbow. "You should know that agent of Celene's never came to my office."

"I didn't think he would."

"I'm worried he'll try to contact you--"

"That's why he's here, Cullen." 

"Yes, but I _insist_ \--"

"If he shows up in my apartment in the middle of the night I'll be sure to call you first thing in the morning. Go _home_ , Cullen. You've had a considerable amount of wine."

"Not as much as Josephine."

Evelyn looked past his shoulder to where her assistant was leaning on Bull for support and waiting for a cab. "No one drinks like an Antivan. Good night, Cullen."

He sighed, aware that this wasn't a battle he could win. "Good night, Evelyn."

 

 

 

Blackwall didn't show up at her apartment in the night, but he did, within a week of Celene's letter, send her an invitation for drinks at a bar downtown. Cullen's immediate advice was to refuse him and send a team of guards instead, but Josephine dismissed his worry and suggested she wear something black and trendy.

"I like Josie's plan a lot better."

"Of course you do! Drinks with an intriguing stranger from Celene's court. He's probably tall and dark and _whatever_ women seem to enjoy these days."

"Cullen are you _jealous?_ "

"I am _worried._ You shouldn't just rush into this."

"And you should relax yourself. Our dear Lady Trevelyan can take care of herself just fine. You should see her with a pair of daggers," Josephine added, and Cullen seemed to be at a loss for words. "Ask Varric about the bar, I'm sure he knows it."

"Maker, the two of you are impossible," Cullen muttered, and left them. 

Josephine sighed. "He does have a point, you know."

"I was waiting for it."

"As paranoid as I think Cullen _is_ , we can't just send you into a bar with a probably very handsome Orlaisian stranger unarmed. You should wear that dress with the longer skirts."

"And hide those knives you got me for my birthday last year."

Josephine snapped her fingers. " _Brilliant._ "

"Don't tell Cullen."

Josephine sighed. "No," she said. "I imagine the idea might silence him for _days_ , and we can't have that."

 

 

 

Krem was her driver again that evening, and he glanced up at her in the rearview mirror with a smile, his eyes on her legs that had slipped through the slit in her dress. "You look good, ma'am."

"Eyes on the road, Krem."

"Whatever you say, ma'am." He pulled up in front of the bar and parked. "I'll wait for you?"

"Please. I don't want to be too terribly long." She let him open the door for her and escort her inside before leaving her in the crowd to find Blackwall. There had been no description of him, but she suspected he knew exactly what she looked like, down to the last freckle. Standing there, she felt her cheeks begin to burn, and wondered if it had been a mistake to agree to this -- she was completely out of her element, and Blackwall could be any man here, could have any sort of checkered past. Cullen still hadn't managed to dig anything out, and if he was as dangerous as she had imagined, he could be -- 

"M'lady." A rough voice in her ear sent a buzz through her that went straight to her heels, and when Evelyn turned, she found herself in someone else's arms. "Did I startle you?"

"I...yes. You did."

"Forgive me." He took her by the elbow and led her to a table in a far corner of the bar. "I knew you wouldn't recognize me, but truthfully I hardly recognized _you._ You're...more professional in the photos."

"Did I overdo it?"

"On the contrary. Would you like a drink?"

"Whiskey," she said. 

"That's my girl." The words rolled off his tongue with ease, and Evelyn shuddered. She wondered what those words would sound like against her ear, against her neck, along her shoulder blades -- "Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" She'd been in the throes of a minor fantasy and he'd been _watching_ her, could probably see the flush that was creeping down her neck at the thought of him. "Of course. It's...been a long week."

"I would imagine. You understood Celene's letter then?"

"I did."

"So you _understand_ it." Evelyn nodded. "Good. I had hoped I wouldn't have to do much convincing," he said, leaning back when a waitress brought their drinks. "Though it can sometimes be...entertaining." 

"A pity I couldn't be more disagreeable. I hate to see your skills go to waste." Andraste preserve her, this _man._ He was more than ten years her senior, she knew that right away. His beard and hair were graying elegantly at the sides, and he had a pair of well manicured hands that she knew without looking were rough and worn around the ridges of his palms. 

"Well, if the lady is willing, I'm sure something can be arranged." He took a long drink and Evelyn remembered Dorian's thought -- that Celene had been practically _throwing_ this man at her, perhaps for this very reason.

Evelyn wondered if it is was still wrong to _want_ as much as she did right then. He didn't seem like the type to mind. 

For a while, they avoided the subject. Their topics of conversation were banal, interrupted only when he ordered another round of drinks, or when Evelyn excused herself, once, to go to the restroom and take deep, calming breaths in one of the stalls. He told her to call him Blackwall, and the name rolled off her tongue with ease. When he called her Lady Trevelyan, she corrected him. It was the least sensual conversation she'd ever had and still, she was wracked with need.

Eventually, he stretched across from her and declared himself useless for the rest of the night. "I should call that cab."

Evelyn shook her head. "I have a car outside. I'll take you wherever you'd like."

"That's thoughtful, m'lady, but unnecessary--"

"Please," she said, standing. "I insist." 

Blackwall chuckled and stood, taking her arm when she offered it to him. "Well, when a lady _insists_." He went along with her to the car where Krem was patiently waiting and opened the door for her. "Downtown, if you will. That big one, at the city center. Maker's balls, can't ever remember the name of it--" Krem only laughed and shut the door behind them. 

"He'll get us there," Evelyn murmured, looking at him from across the seat.

"These sorts always do." Blackwall's face was open to her, his expression rich with exhaustion and a smile. There was something else there that she couldn't quite place, but still, she was bewitched. She leaned into his space, letting his hand trail across her thigh in slow circles. "I'd like to kiss you," he said. "But I'm worried we're moving too quickly, and I'd prefer not to offend you."

"You couldn't," Evelyn said, and hauled herself into his lap. His beard felt exactly as she imagined it would, scraping her chin and leaving her warm. She moaned into his mouth, tongue sliding against his teeth. He tasted like whiskey, tasted like ice and mint -- he tasted nothing like Solas, like any of the men she'd kissed that she could remember, and she was overwhelmed by his hands that seemed to cover every inch of her through the dress.

When he ground his palm between her legs, she threw her head back with a gasp. "I thought so," he said.

"Don't tease."

"I never intended to. You know why I'm here, don't you?"

" _Yes_ \--"

"She didn't say you'd be this beautiful," he said suddenly, and for all his lines he'd fed her all evening -- this one didn't sound practiced. Evelyn looked at him, the lights from passing buildings illuminating the need she knew reflected her own. Carefully, she reached down and guided his hand under the folds of her dress, nodding when he reached between her legs. His fingers pushed her underwear aside and stroked along her clit, teasing the opening there. Evelyn inhaled quickly when he pushed a finger inside of her, stroking and stretching. She wondered if he'd fuck her here, if he'd let her take his cock in her hands and push it into her cunt, wet and greedy -- 

"Will you come upstairs with me?" he asked. Evelyn was aware, now, that the car had stopped. She didn't know for how long.

"Yes. Yes, please--"

"Tell your driver to go along. I'll make sure you get home in the morning."

"Of course." 

Nodding, he drew his hand away from her and opened the door. Evelyn slid out and tapped on the driver's window. "Krem--"

"I won't tell," he said. "You just call me if you need a ride in the morning, ma'am."

"I will."

Krem nodded and, when Blackwall had stepped out next to her and shut the door, he pulled away. Evelyn was suddenly aware of the decisions she had made that had led to this, aware of the last two hours and how she was suddenly in Blackwall's arms again, possessed and needed -- aware of how much she liked it. 

"We're going upstairs," he said quietly. "And I'm going to show you how convincing I can be."

"Do I get to be disagreeable?" she asked, leaning in close.

Blackwall laughed, and it was deep and raw and _everything._ "I certainly hope so."


End file.
